I had an unusually vivid dream last night I call “The Curse of the Anunnaki.”

Speeding through the inkiness of outer-space; in a spherical craft with large oval windows, surrounded by fellow crew persons, I am struck with a sudden sense of dread. Outside stuck to the glass and leering with soulful, black eyes — two ghostly “Anunnaki,” are attempting telepathic communications.

“That ain’t good,” I say to myself. What do they want with us; these harbingers of doom?

The picture becomes blurry and dims out — I awake disoriented.

The Anunnaki have transported me through time and space to a very different world than I am accustom to. For a purpose — their own evil purposes — I know not what. It is a world where imperial Rome never fell into the dark ages, but soldiered on into a 20th century not unlike Earth’s 1960’s.

The sword, slavery, games-to-the-death, debauchery, bread and circuses, are as natural to these Romans as to their progenitors — with all the modern conveniences technology has to offer.

Swordplay, begins in earnest as I fight for my life. I am an expert swordsman, but my opponent, is also adept with a blade. I fatally wound him and am rewarded with my freedom.

Now, a “freeman,” I cavort and celebrate with the other survivors. Slaves are brought in for our pleasure. I am particularly enamored of a young male slave but alas, my flirtations are rebuffed. I am alive but unsatisfied.

The picture becomes blurry and dims out — I awake disoriented.

Our mission, nearing completion, I am once again on board my craft. spacepersons, yawn and rub their eyes in an attempt to gain focus.

The captain, calls out “Set course for Daosiubaiu-Hygids-XIII …warp speed.

When you hear a thunderous roar coming from directly overhead it’s only natural to look up, isn’t it? Well, anyway, that’s what I did. At first all you could see was a gray-colored cloud all boiling like–churning in the sky. Thunder? The roaring just got louder and louder. An approaching Summer storm, perhaps? No, wait! What the…what is that? Something was beginning to emerge from within the cloud. Out loud I said, looks like an aircraft carrier, but [it] was inverted, and massive. I think I held my hands over my ears, or maybe just raised them over my head in astonishment–unbelievable–my eyes must be deceiving me. How does something that big just hang there? I’d seen big planes before–the Space Shuttle on it’s 747 transport–even seen the Antonov 225–it’s a big-bad-boy, but this–this was 10 times that size. They’re here! The hair on my arms was standing straight up, and my ears popped. That’s no typical airplane–it’s–must be a-l-i-e-n, Alien, I reasoned! Ya don’t see that every day.*

The aliens had gone public (we would later learn just how long they’d secretly been here), and in the days following the first landings, the World had gone ‘ape-shit’ with fear over the uncertainty of what might be coming next. The doomsday cultists ranted and raved; churches filled to overflowing, the militaries of the World were mobilized–poised ready to defend the Earth, but the bombs never fell, nor did death-rays burn the flesh from the bones of Mankind; instead, the lights stayed on, there was plenty of food and gas; they had, after all, come in peace, and with one simple message to the people of Earth. The Universe, the aliens would tell us; was teaming with life of all kinds; sentient, living breathing biological life; impossibilities of unimaginable strangeness, some nothing more than what you would call smoke, some large as planets, some were what you might call robots–yet alive just the same.

As the weeks following the alien revelation of their presence ticked by; the ant pile of frantic people quickly calmed down, and a media feeding frenzy of sorts settled in on the Aliens. At first, they were referred to as Invaders–later–Space Brothers by the press–and their amazing technology. WOW! Did they have tech; like we never dreamed of. It was along about that time that they became known as “Them.” Not that They were gonna share everything they knew with us–we still had some growing up ta do–given our penchant for wars and callus disregard for the Earth and all–oh, no! All, in due time.

Special representatives of the Human Race where invited to function as liaisons between Them and us. Selected by lottery, 144,000 women and men, representing all nations and races, joined the Alien Introduction Liaison And Education Program. I agreed to interact with (even travel to their planets (they had more than one)) with Them. Yeah, I saw that episode of the Twilight Zone, “To Serve Mankind” where the foolish trusting humans fall for the alien propaganda, only ta be duped into traveling back to their planet to be eaten. I know, I know–all my friends said don’t do it–it’s a trick. Never in my life had I ever won anything–all those Lotto tickets–and not a cent ta show for it. I figured–sometimes you just gotta say “what the heck.” The next thing I knew, I was in training to go…when we lifted off…the last time I’ll ever see my home star…time travel or was it inter-dimensional? Maybe both. I don’t know. Shit I’m just guy from…what do I know…mind-blowing…Feynman was right, all along…and the answer was: 4.2…All that Summer, the fires in the Gulf, burned…sort of like the holodeck on…Looking down I started to laugh ’cause I had realized this was the first time I had taken a leak on another planet…wait till they get a-lotta this…on the return journey…it’s true, they did wear a lot of black… You don’t say! …Who knew? …Something wonderful!

I had just had an all-expense-paid vacation to the most beautiful planetary system anyone could ever imagine; even learned ta speak Their language. Saw wondrous thing I’d never dreamt of, all that, and lived ta tell about it. Not bad I thought, for a guy with just a high school education. I felt mighty proud talking into one of those gizmos they gave me to record my reflections on Them. Heck, maybe I could even write a book some day–be on that radio show. With that guy–what’s his name? George Bell?

Mankind had grown up, maybe even been saved from self-destruction, by the knowledge that other creatures had survived their own technological developments; over came their urge towards violent behavior, and then come here; with love and peace in their hearts (actually, They have two of ’em–hearts, that is), to the little ol’ Earth; to tell us that if They could do it, so could we. I considered it a great privilege and honor to have been lucky enough to participate in the Evolution of Humanity. We had become, Us.

The teacher posed the question in the form of a mathematical equation…I struggled to understand…took notes in a little notebook he handed me…after some thought I reasoned an approximation was the closest I could get to ciphering his riddle…with somewhat less than complete confidence in my conclusion, I wrote…and the answer was: 4.2…but to ad to my frustration, the notebook in which I had done my problem solving, was nowhere to be found. Thinking 5 to be excessive, I stood by my answer. 4.2 it is.

In the above mentioned dream; the place or setting (from now on refer to as the “dream landscape”), is subservient to the basic narrative. What happens when the dream landscape is central to the narrative? Just what exactly is a dream landscape? This ‘ll do nicely.

Joseph told his brothers two dreams which clearly portended his future elevation over them all, but which, for the present, simply caused them to hate him all the more (Genesis 37:1-11). In this frame of mind, they seized upon the first opportunity to get rid of the one of whom they spoke [of] as “the dreamer”.

Two.

We found ourselves…outside of our native lands–in Modern day Russia…hungry, tired and alone…cold and bleak, was the terrain…after stealing state secrets, the KGB was hot on our trail… some of the local folks could be depended upon for help…you struggled to learn a handful of phrases in an attempt to “blend in.” The journey, was fraught with danger…two tough young turks, attempted to waylay us…I produced a long stiletto knife, stabbed and killed one…the other…ran off…the days were long and the nights were cold…stolen cars, trains and buses were our homes.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life is rounded with a sleep–or so says Prospero, in Shakespeare’s The Tempest.

There is in sleep something mysterious which seems, from the earliest times, to have impressed man and aroused his curiosity… But the mystery of sleeping is enhanced by the phenomenon of dream[s] which accompanies it.

Three.

The pantry being bare–necessitated a trip to the store…in addition to groceries there was a small deli…outside, in the grounds existed a greenhouse and shed full of old tools…surrounded by what appeared to be loaves of bread piled up around it…literally growing up around it…the gardener was at hand and I ask what this strange thing was growing all around his shed. I was told it was a fungus not unlike the biblical “manna” the Israelites fed upon in the wilderness…the gardener offered me some of this to eat…It was quite tasty, having the texture and smell of fresh baked bread…immediately, I suggested this would make a good sandwich–being so much like the real thing…and inquired as to the price…an answer was not forthcoming…vague…frustrated, I went into the deli repeating my question…no such luck…became apparent they had no desire to sell me any of this wonderful food…some secrets, have no price.

The dream unfolds.

We walk, run, fly and float through strange landscapes. Characters appear and turn into different people. Objects are transformed. A rope becomes a snake. Uncle Harry turns into a Tibetan monk and it all makes sense in some screwy, dreamlike way.

You’re getting sleepy.

The dreaming brain employs all of the same systems and networks,… but with a few critical differences. Input from the outside world is screened out. Self-awareness ceases. The body is paralyzed. And everything that the dreaming brain sees, hears or feels is generated from within.

I get this one a lot. A little musical interlude is in order, I think. I give you Travis.

Exactly my bloody question–could it be ’cause you live in Scotland?

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